


Like a Box of Chocolate

by LadyKnight33



Series: McHanzo Week Collections [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Challenge Response, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Making Out, Marriage Proposal, McHanzo Week, Peapod McHanzo, Pre-Relationship, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-02-28 03:12:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13262415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKnight33/pseuds/LadyKnight33
Summary: A sweet and lighter collection of shorts revolving around the pair. Yes, each one will be named after a chocolate treat. Think of this as an early Valentines Day selection.Day 1: Oh no, we have to share a bed… = Coconut CreamDay 2: AU = Dragon/Wolf/Supernatural= Roman NougatDay 3: Laundry/Chores in General = Orange CreamDay 4: Car/Roadtrip = Salted CaramelDay 5: On the Job/Mission = Molasses ChewDay 6: Date Night = TrufflesDay 7: Home for the Holidays = Cherry Cordials





	1. Coconut Cream

**Chapter One: Coconut Cream**

Motel room number: too many to count. Small town. One room. He really shouldn’t be surprised about the quality. Stains on the peeling floral wallpaper. Magnolias, if Jesse knew anything about flowers. Aged wooden doors that barely kept a whisper within the walls of the rooms. He heard snoring, tv chatter, and moans from man’s favorite nighttime sport. When they passed these rooms, he glanced beside him to his traveling companion. The man showed no reaction. The archer hadn’t been much fun lately.

Hanzo had the idea to team up to collect the bounty on a Venezuelan drug lord. It was a dangerous job, needing more than one person watching each other’s back. It was also the only job in Hanzo’s list of contacts that Jesse thought would benefit the community rather than solely seek money. The cowboy knew how to be a gun for hire, but he did have rules on what type of job he took. So he agreed. And the long arduous trek into dangerous territory began.

Now they were in a border town where the law was everyman for himself.

Opening the door to their room, Jesse stopped. Of course at the end of a long day it only made sense that there would be only one bed in the tired old room.

“McCree…” Behind him Hanzo sighed at the delay. The gunslinger shrugged and entered, tossing his bag onto the worn-out arm chair by the door. And waited. This time he wasn’t disappointed. Hanzo scowled at the room. He knew the mercenary had seen his fair share of dilapidated retreats, but the single bed for two people finally exposed the man’s irritation. Hanzo retreated back outside in response. Jesse knew the man was returning to the front desk to demand either an additional room or one with separate beds.

“Now, hold on there, partner.” Jesse grabbed the archer’s shoulder. He was tired and a mattress of any sort was a plus. “It’s after midnight and we’re lucky they even have a room.”

“They must have an extra cot somewhere…”

“Hanzo, look. It’s been a long day and it’s not worth another couple of hours for them to hunt one down. It’s a big bed, for one night. Just like sharing the barracks.”

“I was never in the military.” The archer pushed passed Jesse’s large frame.

Jesse rolled his eyes, “Right…” How could he forget. Son of the rich crime boss Shimada. Neither Genji nor Hanzo had to share space before. True the two had shared hotel rooms on this trip, but they had all been separate queen beds. This was the first solo king they had come across. Pale green bedspread and starched white sheets within a questionable motel room. Not really the type of setting Jesse wanted to share a bed in, but he was exhausted and just wanted the sleep. This was far better than the alternatives. The cowboy had enough of sleeping outside with one eye open. Turning to lock the door, he asked, “Do you want the shower first?” The harsh click of the hollow bathroom door answered the question. “Of course you do.”

Three days without a proper shower would do that to a man. Particularly one that looked like he needed to be meticulously groomed at all times. While the water droned in a monotonous roar, Jesse started to peel the layers from his body. It felt good to take the weight of his armor off. Down to his undershirt and jeans, Jesse dragged a chair over to the window and started smoking. Peacekeeper stayed holstered at his hip. Just because they were in the room didn’t mean he could completely let his guard down. Now he just waited until the archer was finished.

Half way through the cigar, Hanzo emerged in his pajama pants and damp hair curling at the shoulders. And with the archer bare chested, the dragon tattoo stood out in all its detailed glory. Jesse didn’t think he could ever get tired of watching the mythological beast move with each twitch of muscle. But how to tell the standoffish man that seemed to be only interested in the mission? He snuffed the cigar, dropped his hat into the chair and took his place in the steam filled shower.

While washing off the dust from three days of travel, Jesse wondered if the night would be as bad as Hanzo was making it out to be. Stepping out clad in his blue plaid boxers, he found the archer already curled up on the side of the bed farthest from the door, breathing slowly. Hanzo wasn’t asleep, but he was pretending to be. Jesse had watched over his rest enough these past few weeks to know the difference. Whatever worked. 

After tucking the revolver into the partially open draw of the bedside table, Jesse slipped into the cold sheets of his side of the bed. Just business as usual. Even if he did take a moment to enjoy the broad back of pure muscle facing his direction. He could admire from afar. Getting too close could be dangerous for them both. Sleep took him quickly after that. It was a comfort to have a second pair of eyes watching his back.

Dawn with rose gold fingers poked through the cheap pastel peach curtains. Jesse knew he felt warmer than when he fell asleep. Slow deep breaths brushed across his exposed skin. It seemed the archer didn’t like sharing. He pried his eyes opened to take a peek. The mercenary’s angled faced smoothed in sleep, black hair creating ink lines across the white pillow cases. Arms tucked in close and legs tangled together. Despite having plenty of room for a third person between them, Hanzo had gravitated to the nearest body of warmth.

Neither one of them liked being cold it seemed. Jesse smiled. He knew he radiated heat like a personal furnace. Shifting ever so slightly, he let his right arm drape across Hanzo’s lower back under the covers. Hanzo would just have to wake up like this. They were still technically on Jesse’s side of the bed. So he wasn’t the one going anywhere. It was an acquired taste the archer would learn wasn’t so bad. Perhaps even like. Either way, Jesse wasn’t going to complain. He returned to some of the best sleep he had had in years.


	2. Roman Nougat

**Chapter Two: Roman Nougat**

If he were to be completely honest, dragons required very little to find contentment. Others would disagree. They claimed that the vast track of land he called his own was extravagant and selfish. Soaring snowcapped mountains in the distance provided the chilled runoff which created the crystal clear streams and lakes. This in turn fed a bounty of life stretching across the grasslands in the hills on to the wetlands by the sea. All this was needed to sustain him. In turn he allowed the animal and plant life to flourish. 

Even the human villages along the coastline respected him enough to keep their petty squabbles to a minimum. He left them alone to live out their days in what peace and happiness they could find. The thriving community of innovators was actually one of his pride and joys. He visited them frequently because they were always different and dragons were always curious.

Of course they knew of him. A shrine stood at the edge of the village near where the stream emerged from the dense forest. Within it was a beautiful depiction of a sinuous dragon carved in jade. The likeness was remote as none had ever seen him as the dragon. But the detail never failed to stun him, even as he stood before it for the thousandth time. Every individual scale and whisker lovingly rendered. Eyes glaring at the observer with imperial wisdom. And when the sunlight soared through the eastern window, bathing the green jade in its golden touch, the statue glowed with a translucent life all its own.

Hanzo adored the representation. If only because of how beautiful the humans believed him to be. He was a dragon. Humility was not something he ever claimed.

Nor was this the contentment he had found. This all was his. By right. By strength. And he would protect it tooth and talon. 

The contentment he found was in the shape of a traveler. Someone who had come to his shores from a distant land. Hanzo knew of other countries. Some governed by spiritual beings, some torn apart by warring supernaturals. Not all were dragons. Though those nearest to him were and they each kept to themselves. Dragons didn’t share. This traveler had arrived by a massive wooden ship with large rectangular sails. All function and no beauty. He had known the moment this wild traveler had sailed into the tidal waters.

Their first meeting was something of a joke. 

_Hanzo strode through the village regally in his glittering sky blue robe adorned with gleaming gold sashes. These flowed around him seamlessly as clouds and waves dancing together on the horizon. Not a speck of dust ever touched these manifestations of his own scales. Delicate and diaphanous these cloths were durable armor against any threat. So the dragon stood at the base of the gangplank and waited. Intending to tell this traveler that he would not accept any trouble within his lands._

_Spiritual and other supernatural beings tended to avoid dragon territory. To have this wild spirit purposefully sail directly into his well established land was audacious. Or stupid. Hanzo himself had never met any beings that were not his own family or distant neighbors. Which were other less powerful dragons. This was such a different presence that he did not know what to expect. It certainly wasn’t the the tall, lanky, dusty man that sauntered down the gangplank with a rucksack over his shoulder and leather hat shading his eyes. Scruffy almond color hair stuck out from under the head covering, matching the unkempt beard. The man looked as if he hadn’t taken care of himself in months._

_A short stick of something poked through the traveler’s mouth, smoking with a sharp tangy scent. Rumors of fire breathing dragons existed, but this did not appear to be a dragon. The traveler stuck out his right hand the moment he stepped into Hanzo’s personal space. “Howdy. This must be your place. Name’s Jesse McCree. Hope you don’t mind me visiting for a little while. Wanted to get out and see the world.” The man grinned around his smoke. Hanzo didn’t know what to make of this abrupt new being invading his territory. The powerful, dangerous, spiritual energy was like nothing he had ever sensed before. It even came close to rivaling his own. The dragon stood dumbstruck at how to deal with this new entity. And by the stupid fact that he had to look up at this traveler._

Now that man was about to return. Again. Hanzo had lost count how many times the traveler returned. But Hanzo was always there to greet him. This time with a smile. Though Jesse constantly pestered him to travel, Hanzo never felt the same urge. This place was his. And he needed to protect it. But it wasn’t the same anymore. Not since Jesse McCree came.

The grasslands were still lush and filled with wildflowers. Fish still glittered in the streams. Birds still sang among the trees. But without Jesse the fields felt empty.

Today as he passed the shrine to welcome the traveler back, he noticed a new carving. A rough, beginners piece from aged oak. Barely the size of a human hand. Kneeling before the stand holding the massive jade dragon, Hanzo studied the knew creation carefully. The craftsman had talent. The shape was clear and majestic. Posed as if prowling, stalking his prey. It clearly showed off the creature’s strength.

“What’s got you all distracted?” Jesse’s cheerful timber broke the involved silence of Hanzo’s study.

Gracefully the dragon rose and brushed nonexistent dirt from his glistening robes. He hadn’t noticed the arrival of his traveler. Because the moment Jesse had entered his senses all felt right. Hanzo smiled and stepped away from the display. Motioning to the small wooden wolf, Hanzo’s smile brightened, “You have a home now.”

“Well, I’ll be,” Jesse tilted his hat away from his face. The cigar wasn’t anywhere to be seen at the moment. “Though they might want to do something about the size difference.” Still the man’s clothing, leather armor, boots and hat were all covered with the dust from other lands. Spices, smokes, herbs, animals, humans. All things the great wolf had seen while traveling. Unable to settle. Constantly needing to wander. Though now the humans of Hanzo’s lands saw Jesse as belonging here.

“Is that really all you have to say?” Hanzo drew himself up to his full height, still a head shorter than Jesse while they were in human manifestations.

“I missed you too, Hanzo.” Jesse removed his hat, dropping it and the rucksack to the floor before wrapping his massive arms around the dragon. Hanzo obliged and curled his arms around Jesse’s neck, dragging him down to the proper height. His traveler. His wolf.

The contentment Hanzo found was within these arms. Listening to the stories this man told. Laying together under the stars bejeweling the night sky. The sense of belonging that he had not known was missing until the years, decades, of getting to know this strange being from across the sea. The one who decided to make a dragon’s territory his first stop on a worldwide tour. Hanzo breathed in the scents from distant lands and imagined the stories Jesse had to go with them. Still rough around the edges, unkempt and dusty, Jesse belonged here. Providing a burst of delight as he played among the villagers. And source of excitement as he ran with Hanzo through the fields. 

Pulling Jesse close, earth and sky met. Warmth spread between them. Sensitive lips tasted tang of lemons, bitterness of beer, sweetness of apples. Hanzo dove deeper, searching for the taste of Jesse. He felt the massive hands crush him against the blazing heat before him. One trailed up his spine, leaving him tingling with anticipation, until it carded through his hair, fingertips massaging his scalp. A rush of pleasure surged through his body. 

Hanzo’s lips trailed away from the feast of flavor within that mouth. He relished the deep gasps of breath as the wolf lost himself to the sensations. Hanzo’s delicate fingers wound through the short almond hair and snaked up the cotton shirt. He took in the familiar texture and found the sensitive areas that always guaranteed a hitch in the other man’s breath. As Hanzo nosed through the beard he found the richness of mahogany, sickly sweet honeysuckle, freshness of damp mint. Under it all was where he found Jesse.

Though the man was all these things. Everything he collected while traveling. At his very basic, the eternal spirit that shared Hanzo’s domain was the musky, earthy, realness that the dragon equated to Jesse. Of everything else that his traveler obtained while abroad, this was the one thing that never changed.

“I know I’m not usually the voice of reason here. But I don’t think they’d like us breaking their artwork.” Jesse’s breathy words were spoken directly into Hanzo’s ear.

“It’s not simply artwork.” Hanzo drew back slightly, gazing up at the wild beast he called his own. “It’s us. Welcome home, Jesse.” Pushing the traveler out of the shrine, while still keeping his arm around Jesse’s waist, Hanzo lead them into the forest. They had their own place where they wouldn’t disturb the humans. Much.

Their manifestations morphed into the great beasts represented within the shrine. A long sinuous blue dragon with golden mane and tail. Hide glittering sapphire and talons harder than diamonds. Standing taller than two men Hanzo dominated all within his lands. Except one. Beside him a massive wolf of brown and gray fur. Paws the size of banquet platters, shoulders nearly even with his own. In this they were nearly equals. Even the humans recognized the wolf as a protector of this land and honored him. As much as Hanzo had grown to love this wild spirit.


	3. Orange Cream

**Chapter Three: Orange Cream**

“Jesse, do you have to wait until you have one clean piece of underwear remaining to do laundry?” Hanzo stood in the middle of their living space. A one bedroom apartment in the middle of Tokyo. It wasn’t Jesse’s first choice when it came to locations, but he managed well enough. The city was large enough that he didn’t stick out quite as much as an American could. As it was, right now Hanzo was studiously not watching McCree parade around in what was deemed his laundry day boxers. He focused on folding the clothing in front of him. At least he tried.

“Yup. Don’t have enough to make a proper load otherwise. You’d complain about me wasting water then.” Anything related to work was stashed in a steamer trunk. That left a half naked cowboy proudly displaying hat on head and stars and stripes across his ass. Shame did not seem to be a word Jesse McCree understood.

“There are plenty of yukatas that you can wear while you wait.” One day Hanzo had grown tired of this display and purchased men’s wear of various colors. Jesse refused to wear them unless having to smoke early in the morning of the cold winters.

It wasn’t that the cowboy was displeasing to look at. He was rather attractive. Muscles defined, thick and strong, though age and hard living caught up with the gunslinger. With stability and someone to come home to gave Jesse the energy to maintain his look. Even if the man refused to add to his clothing selection. 

Once Hanzo had been tempted to offer to wash Jesse’s clothing with his own to avoid partial loads. But then he got a good look at clothing. They were threadbare, weatherbeaten, stained, and so much like their owner that Hanzo was afraid of ruining them further. Clearly Jesse knew how to care for his things. Peacekeeper was pristine. He also had priorities. And clothing was not among them. Hanzo kept his mouth shut and continued to let Jesse do things his own way. He refused to take away any autonomy the man might loose if he gave up these mundane chores.

From the corner of his eyes, he watched Jesse move into the small space between him and the tv. The couch housed the folded clothing. “You know you’d miss complaining if I did that.” Jesse’s metal prosthetic wormed its way around Hanzo’s waist, avoiding the mint green t-shirt Hanzo was currently folding. “Besides, I see the way you smile when you think I’m not looking.” Jesse whispered into his ear, drawing him back against the cowboy’s broad chest. Hot breath disappeared into cool prickling as Jesse leaned back to nuzzle against the other size of Hanzo’s neck.

“That doesn’t mean I approve.” Hanzo tossed the workout shirt towards the pile of similar articles of clothing. It landed off center but didn’t topple the pile. Jesse wasn’t going to let anything get done right now. But this was defiantly early for him. Usually he managed to wait until his clothing was drying before trying anything. Hanzo still had a small pile that needed to be folded. He always made sure to get his laundry in first so it was put away before the gunslinger got horny.

With the first warm kiss behind his ear, Hanzo drew in a sharp breath and closed his eyes. He reached back and found the nape of Jesse’s neck and trailed his nails up into the short scruffy hair. Rewarded with a low moan and the other arm across his chest, Hanzo could feel every intake of breath and the growing need behind him. “Let’s take this to the bedroom.” Jesse mouthed into Hanzo’s neck, moist breath leaving a trail each time the lips left his skin.

“There are no sheets.” Hanzo tried to be reasonable. To think things through. But his resolve was rapidly disappearing. Taken by those incessant kisses.

“That’s what towels are for.” Jesse stepped away, hands lingering across Hanzo’s shoulders and down his arms, begging for him to follow. The sly grin of a man succeeding in his distraction met the ninja as he turned to face his partner. Hanzo snorted and smirked, highly amused at Jesse’s attempts at seduction. But they worked. Hanzo let them work. Who really wanted to deal with the chores. He let himself be led away.

When the buzzer on the washer went off. Jesse groaned. Hanzo chuckled. “Your load is done.”

Wrinkling his nose in the direction of the washer, Jesse said, “It can wait.”

“You need to put them out to dry.”

“It can wait.”

“They’ll smell of mold.”

“Smoke covers everything.” Jesse leaned in, resting his forehead against Hanzo’s. The man himself smelled clean. Freshly showered. “Let it wait.” Jesse McCree definitely had his priorities and clothing was not among them. Pushing up with his toes, Hanzo closed the distance, meeting their lips in one smooth motion. His hand splayed across the bared chest and coarse hair. Under that wall of muscle a heart raced.


	4. Salted Caramel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda a continuation of Chapter One.

**Chapter Four: Salted Caramel**

Jesse wasn’t going to ask where the pickup truck came from. Jesse wasn’t going to ask how old the beat up monstrosity was. Jesse wasn’t even going to ask where Hanzo learned how to drive. But he’d be damned if he was going to loose his lunch on this thin mountain road because of the erratic driving of a man in a hurry.

“Alright, stop.” Jesse called over the roaring engine. Electric might be the fuel of choice in the city, but this thing still had a combustion engine and stank of gasoline.

Hanzo’s eyes never left the road and he continued on. “There’s no where to pull over.” A pneumatic wheel vaulted off a rock, jolting the rusty bucket of bolts closer to the edge of a thousand foot drop.

“There’s no one else on the road. Just stop.” When the jerk of the brakes came, the gunslinger thrust the door open. His vision swam with vertigo as a mere six inches of crumbling gravel separated the edge of the truck’s chassis to the mind numbing distance of the ill defined greenery. His stomach lost its control at that moment. Acidic bile erupted forth into the oblivion below. With his eyes squeezed shut, breath struggling between panting and dry heaving, Jesse almost missed the gentle pressure on his shoulder.

“Are you alright?” Hanzo’s voice was concerned and puzzled. Not that recognizing this did Jesse a lot of good right then. Even in this cool mountain air, he was sweltering. He tamped down another heave from his belly and tried to find control for his lungs. On turning he did notice Hanzo’s brow creased in confusion and his hand retreating from where it must have rested on the cowboy’s shoulder. That was nice. And here he was not able to reciprocate. 

“Move over. I’m getting out.” Jesse shuffled over on the bench seat. His stomach clenched in protest of the movement. The archer looked like he was going to question that statement, but something in Jesse’s face made him reconsider. Where the ninja smoothly slid out of the truck, the gunslinger stumbled over the center console and under the steering wheel until he awkwardly tumbled from the cab. Grace was never his strong point.

Then came the chore of finding a place to sit down. The wall of granite in front of him was too far away and he already had the door in a death grip. He opted to close the door and swing around to drop at the base of the front tire. At least until the world stopped spinning. Between the heights and the dismal driving, Jesse needed this time of stable ground. With his right knee propping up his forearm, the cowboy rested his head and focused on his breathing. He was never letting the archer behind the wheel again.

A silver canteen swung into sights. The clean metal ring as his prosthetic captured the container brought such relief to his ears. “You’re a godsend.” The first sip was used to wash out the taste of vomit. He spit it out and relished the next mouthful of cold tasteless water as it soothed his burning throat.

“And you’re an idiot.” Hanzo levered himself down to share the wheel well as a backrest. The pressure of another human being’s shoulder right next to his kept him grounded. “Why didn’t you say something about getting car sick?”

“I don’t get car sick. I get letting a maniac try and lose control of the wheel sick.” Jesse glanced over and found the normally stoic ninja chuckling. “What?”

“Alright, so I’m more used to the city streets than these back country roads.”  


“And artificial intelligences making up for your mistakes.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“You’re worse.” Jesse tipped the canteen back for another swallow. “After this, I’m driving the rest of the way.”

“What do you know about driving?”

“A hell of a lot more than you.” Passing over the water, he watched Hanzo tilt his head back to take a drink. Jesse took advantage of the moment and leaned to his left. Then most of his weight suddenly rested on the firm shoulder of his traveling companion. Warm, unyielding, secure. Better than any boulder.

“McCree…” Uncertainty tinged with surprise. Well the archer could deal with this for a little while longer. It was his fault after all.

“Hush. I’m recuperating.” Closing his eyes, the gunslinger felt the world settle. Just the support next to him and the knowledge it wasn’t going anywhere. “And you will call me Jesse before this is all over.” He heard a snort above his hat. Amusement or refusal, Jesse didn’t care. The shoulder he rested his head on relaxed. Maybe he didn’t have to tell this man anything. Just show him. In small ways. Hanzo did seem more open to these slight physical suggestions.


	5. Molasses Chew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turned into a continuation of Chapters 1 and 4.

**Chapter Five: Molasses Chew**

Hunkered down in a burnt out shell of a decades old convenience store was not the place Jesse McCree thought he would die. There had been a few places that topped his list. The high desert of New Mexico being the first. Definitely the showdown outside Cairo. And one impossible chance escape from Omnics on the streets of London was another. This never even registered.

Expired canned goods with faded labels littered the floor. Paper products washed out by years of rain and yellowed by the sun fluttered under the tipped over remains of a bookstand. He was out of bullets and out of chances. Used up like the trash surrounding him. Fitting. But not the way he wanted. Not knowing what hit him usually was the best when he thought about embracing death. Watching dark red blood ooze from the emergency biopatch over the bullet wound to his thigh, not so satisfying.

Gunfire had died out about five minutes ago. When the last six bullets from his revolver sank their teeth into the skulls of six desperadoes harassing the archer. Hanzo was picking off the stragglers beating a retreat now that their boss was dead. Five minutes ago Jesse realized he was bleeding. Three minutes ago he realized he couldn’t stop it and called Hanzo to leave the rest alone. Now he waited.

He wasn’t a religious guy by any means. Nor did he believe in angels. But when the sharp profile of the archer appeared in the broken plastic of an old refrigeration unit, Jesse swore heaven existed. The neatly trimmed goatee and the piercing eyes were such a beautiful sight that the gunslinger thought he could die happy right then and there. “Damn, you’re pretty,” he breathed. 

“And you’re delusional from blood loss.” Hanzo’s words clipped the air with a staccato beat playing directly inline with Jesse’s heart. That man could say anything right then and Jesse would love it. Taking in every moment life offered. Watching as if the world had slowed just so he could savor each passing second.

Hands and arms used to holding the immense force of a drawn bow pressed a new bandage into the wound. Jesse couldn’t contain the massive cry of agony as the archer ignited a new wave of pain. Those hands did not budge despite Jesse clawing at the source of the pain. “Stop being a nuisance. If you hold still this will be over quicker.” The tone more than the words entered the gunslinger’s brain. Forceful, demanding, obnoxious. Also deep and smooth and calm. “Better.” Hanzo’s voice kept a steady litany of words to encourage or berate, depending on Jesse’s response to the medical treatment.

“Jesse? Jesse! Wake up!” 

Jesse squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus on the voice in front of him. Had he really blacked out? When he opened them again his vision was filled with worried face of the most gorgeous man on earth. What would he do if he never saw this face again? Jesse leaned forward. The water canteen stopped his progress. Groaning, this time in frustration, the cowboy snatched the offending object away, just to see Hanzo standing out of reach.

“Drink. I’ll bring a vehicle around so we can leave this place.”

“Hanzo!”

The archer turned to look over his shoulder. The one where the geometrically perfect dragon resided. “What?”

What indeed. His thigh throbbed from the bullet wound and all his mind could think about was what if he died without letting this man know. Jesse pushed himself up, using the destroyed shelving has a crutch. Hanzo must have taken pity on his instability because suddenly the shoulders that could prop up the world were under his left arm. He felt Hanzo sigh as he reluctantly accepted that the cowboy would not be left behind. The huge heave as the archer settled Jesse’s weight firmly against his side.

“Very well. But don’t complain about the pain when walking.”

Jesse didn’t have the words. Jesse McCree, the man who could charm the pants off damn near anyone, didn’t have the words to explain to this one perfect specimen of human kind what he actually wanted. Before they could begin moving, Jesse reached out and cupped Hanzo’s neck with his right hand, then pulled them together until he could push his lips against the archer’s. It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t refined. It wasn’t anything a first kiss should be. But it was exactly what Jesse needed to convey.

He couldn’t live one more moment without Hanzo knowing. He didn’t care if the man shoved him away. Never spoke to him again. Dropped him to the cracked concrete and left him here. Jesse pressed forth with the desperation of a man who had nothing left to loose. They each faced death too often to let a single wistful moment go to waste.

The quick chaste kiss left Hanzo surprised. A lax jaw that Jesse took slight advantage of with a probing, searching, exploratory massage of lips into the orifice where the most pleasing voice in existence emerged. There was no reciprocation. After a sigh and a lingering withdrawal, Jesse let his head hang, waiting for a reprimand or the outrage.

Neither came. Silence and strong hand gripping his waist in preparation to move. When Jesse gathered the courage to glance at his traveling companion, Hanzo was lost to his internal thoughts. Eyes cast to the side, lips pursed in frustration. It wasn’t a rejection. The moment Hanzo chose to voice his opinion was music to Jesse’s ears. The slow current rose and fell with each carefully picked word. “Your sense of timing and your presentation must be among the worst ever in existence.” Hanzo glanced over with eyes of melted chocolate. “You could have said something earlier. It would have made this whole affair less awkward.”

Jesse felt his heart soar among the clouds. Hanzo looked like he was about to say more, but the gunslinger couldn’t listen. The pain in his leg didn’t register. The only thing in Jesse’s world that mattered was sharing the pent up joy upon hearing the acceptance in Hanzo’s words. Warm, dry lips delved once again into unexplored territory. This time they were received welcomingly. All worries vanished from Jesse’s mind. He was singularly focused on this one sensation. The explosion of warmth burning through his chest. He chased the tangy salt of dried sweat, breathed in the hot exhales, thrust deeply into this new war of tongues. If he never got another moment on this sweet earth, then he wanted this one to be remembered.

Hanzo pulled away first. His breathless gasps felt in the heaves against Jesse’s side. “Let’s get going. Last thing I need is for you to pass out on me. Again.”

“I’m driving.” He grinned. The trip back was going to be much more fun.

“Like hell you are. You’re lucky I don’t dump you in the back of the truck and let you bleed out there.” There was no malice in these words. A small smile tickled the corner of Hanzo’s beard.

Jesse leaned down to kiss the corner of that smirk. “Better find one of those smart cars that can correct for your errors in judgement.” That earned him him a pinch to his midsection as he chuckled. Any pain he felt walking back to the truck was worth it to see the archer smile.


	6. Truffles

**Chapter Six: Truffles**

The restaurant was Hanzo’s idea. Jesse wouldn’t have known this place existed. Dozens of crystal chandeliers filling the dining area with glittering light. Golden accents, vermillion velvet, ivory tablecloths. They hadn’t even reached the table yet and Jesse already had cold feet. No matter that he trussed up in a fine linen charcoal gray suit with coordinating crimson silk tie. No matter the neatly trimmed sideburns and beard. No matter the finely polished metal of his ancient prosthetic to the point it looked better than brand-new. No matter to any of that. Jesse was ready to walk out the door despite the effort he had gone through to make the night Hanzo had planned perfect.

The things he did for the one he loved… 

“Relax,” Hanzo tucked his arm under Jesse’s and twined his fingers with the mechanical protrusions functioning as fingers. “You will enjoy the food. I promise.” The man sounded so sure of himself. 

“There are places I enjoy that don’t cost an arm and a leg to get into.” Jesse grumbled. He did loosen up, gently squeezed the hand within his own. He had gone this long trusting in the archer. Why give up now?

“All this is just packaging. Yet sometimes the experience is worth the expense.” 

They were escorted to a table off along the wall under a monstrosity of gilded scrollwork framing an extravagant oil painting of a classical roman cathedral. There was no accounting for the tastes of the rich. Now seated he could clearly see the delicate gold leaf on the porcelain and the minute details of roses. The food had better be as luxurious as the surroundings. Otherwise this was just overkill.

A snifter of bourbon and carafe of sake appeared with the Omnic server. What followed was a description of what they would be having rather than the choices offered. Jesse eyed his partner. The man had gone and prepared the entire evening. The cowboy wasn’t sure how he felt about that. But they had agreed that every so often a true and proper date night would be planned. They alternated. The results varied. This was one of the few that Jesse was still skeptical about. Hanzo just smiled. 

That look alone brought his stress levels down. Despite all the trappings of wealth and pretentiousness of the elite, this was still just dinner with the man he had lost his heart to. The gentle gaze solely for him made everything alright. Just dinner. Getting to know each other as if for the first time, but already knowing a few secrets to make it all easier. He reached out with his right hand and Hanzo met him half way. Callouses rough and familiar grazed against his fingertips.

“You do know how cheesy this all is, right?”

The typically stoic Japanese man shrugged. His silken black hair pulled tight against his scalp, the white gold piercings glittering in the light. Every inch of the man displayed strength and attitude. Not the type of man many approached. And only the foolish and daring like Jesse McCree ever tried. It was worth it. Every moment. Even this one.

Hanzo glanced out to the other diners and the lavish interior of the restaurant. “Fancy place. Expensive food. Everything carefully planned. Just missing the champagne and diamond ring.”

Jesse choked on his own breath. “What?” Had he really heard what he thought he heard.

“You said this was cheesy.” Hanzo chuckled. “It is very cliche. Did you really think I would be so predictable, Jesse?” They had been together for quite some time, but the cowboy hadn’t even begun to think about that kind of long term relationship. He was still processing the archer’s statement, trying to figure out if it was a joke or truth. It was one thing Jesse adored. Always having to stay on his toes around this man. When Hanzo stood, taking Jesse’s hand with him, it left the cowboy further off balance. “Come.”

“But… dinner…”

“Will take about twenty minutes to prepare. And I asked them to wait an extra ten before getting started.” Hanzo’s brilliant laugh at Jesse’s puzzled face made the world even more topsy-turvy than when the night had started. “Also our server, Alan Nineteen, will find us if we loose track of time. Come, I think you will enjoy this.” Jesse let himself be led away, twisting through tables and towards the source of music. 

What he had thought was simply background noise from speakers set too softly to distinguish actual melodies was in fact a live quintet. And before them on the gleaming rosewood were couples gliding across the floor. Jesse’s brow creased in confusion. “But you said you don’t dance.”

“But you do.”

“Not like this.”

“I’ll show you.” Jesse opened his mouth to protest and was quickly silenced by a single finger pressed against his lips. “If you can line dance, then you can learn the waltz. The only difference is that you now will be holding a partner. I know I will regret this … but if you learn how to waltz, I will join you in one of those honky-tonk bars of yours… to line dance.” Only a slight wince of pain accompanied this promise. Not enough to ruin the sincerity of the offer.

Wonders never ceased.

Jesse felt a slow smile ooze across his face. His archer took that as agreement and tugged Jesse onto the dance floor. Jesse followed along, gazing down at the man giving him instructions on where to place his hands, how to move his feet. He focused on the firm hand against his back and the unyielding positioning of the one in the air. Hanzo danced as he did everything else. With perfect precision and utmost dignity. The man moved gracefully, even as he adjusted the cowboys careless steps. Jesse didn’t mind. He never once stepped on his partner’s feet. Though he couldn’t float as effortlessly as those around him, Jesse could gaze into his lover’s eyes with adoration and admiration. Never in his life would he had expected Hanzo Shimada to lead him through dance after dance.

Jesse thought he could spend the entire night like this. Just him and Hanzo wrapped in each other’s arms, gliding though the smooth twists and swirls of the waltz. Nothing else existed. The goofy smile plastered on his face made his partner quirk an amused grin every time Hanzo glanced up. Before Jesse was ready, Hanzo pulled him away from the floor and back to their table. He wasn’t going to protest. He now had something new to share with his partner. And he was going to make the most of it, every chance he got.

What he found waiting for him at the table did leave him slack jawed with shock. A bottle of champagne chilled in its own gilded stand. A massive bouquet of red long-stemmed roses replaced the former vase of pink carnations. As Hanzo had said, the only thing missing now was the diamond ring. He turned towards his partner and witnessed the biggest smirk that had ever graced the man’s face.

“You said you weren’t predictable,” Jesse accused.

“But you are.” Hanzo’s grin softened. “And you like cheesy and cliche. Why else would you go around in that ridiculous cowboy getup.” The archer caught Jesse’s right hand again, holding it gently he brought it to his lips. He pressed a chaste kiss on the knuckles. That motion alone made Jesse weak in the knees. “But you also have a taste for the finer things. Things you don’t think you have a right to, but would like to enjoy nonetheless. You might not have considered this far into the future… I have… And I would like to share that future with you. If you will have me.”

As he said this, Hanzo gracefully lowered himself to one knee, keeping Jesse’s hand in his. With the other he produced a small black box that he skillfully opened with one hand. A motion the archer must have practiced a thousand times. All the while the warm brown eyes gazed up at him, wide and hopeful. Neither one of them had the best track record in life, but together they had managed to carve out an existence suitable for them both.

Closing his eyes with a broad grin, Jesse couldn’t believe what he had before him. A man that knew him better than he knew himself at times. He didn’t even need to look at the ring. “Of course I will,” he chuckled. Hanzo was over the top in most all things. This included. And it was quite cute. Polite applause surrounded their scene, making Jesse flushed as he realized this had all been done before an audience. Sometimes he could kill the man.

From the blue satin lined box, Hanzo removed the broad gleaming ring. Knowing the ninja it was either platinum or white gold, not that Jesse could tell simply by looking at it. The diamond sat as if poised between the mouths of two dragons etched into the metal. It wasn’t the Shimada crest but came startlingly close. It was all framed within a golden rope design along the edges. And unsurprisingly slipped onto his ring finger effortlessly.

Jesse couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled Hanzo up and into a ferocious kiss. Dinner and audience be damned. He had other things on his mind. Like how he was going to get back at his partner for this embarrassingly accurate display of affection. It was still the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for him.


	7. Cherry Cordials

**Chapter Seven: Cherry Cordials**

The door shut with a satisfying click and sliding the lock home put an end to a long night. Hanzo dropped his head against the wood and closed his eyes. He hated parties. He hated pretending to be nice to near strangers or people that aggravated him in general. Hated crowds and loud music. Pretty much hated everything that he had experienced that night.

But he had gone to support someone important to him. And right now that man was putting away the gifts and candies and junk gained from the party. He was still humming carols while he unpacked. Hanzo could remember the first holiday season they had together. And the sheer number of whisky bottles he had collected. Jesse still hadn’t been in a place where he could appreciate that he was not alone. For the gregarious spirit within the gunslinger, being without friends or family at the time of year when everyone celebrated must have killed him. 

Still the man came through it all. Durable as ever. Waking up with Hanzo asleep on his chest probably helped. Now old friends were getting in contact with him again. True it was a recall to active duty in an illegal organization. But Jesse sought the companionship. The man wasn’t meant to be alone.

Now the spirit within Jesse McCree shined brightest. Doing the only thing he knew how for the people he cared about.

“What’s wrong, sugarplum?” Jesse called from the kitchen. No doubt putting away the cases of hot chocolate and herbal teas. The theory seemed to be that the two of them could buy their own alcohol. No one was going to encourage the habit.

Hanzo wrinkled his nose at the pet name. They were something that spilled out of Jesse’s mouth with no filter. Despite Hanzo telling him time and again to refrain, Hanzo himself hadn’t decided how he felt about them. They were embarrassing but endearing. Most of the time Jesse didn’t even realize he was using them.

“Nothing.” Hanzo sighed and left the door. “It was just a trying event.”

“Aw, don’t say that, darling. It wasn’t that bad.” The gunslinger grinned. He was making something but the bar hid his actions from the archer.

“We work them. To use the phrase loosely.”

“The team is family, so they say.”

“Really…” Hanzo said dryly. He knew all too well how working with family went. He couldn’t say he was impressed with the analogy. Placing his bags beside their bedroom door, Hanzo drifted to the couch. A large, overstuffed, comfortable monstrosity that Jesse had somehow convinced the deliverymen to get up fourteen flights. He stretched out on his side, feet propped up on the coffee table and willed the stress away. 

“Sweetheart, it couldn’t have been that bad.” The clink of mugs on the glass tabletop accompanied the cowboy, currently sporting the ugliest, bright orange sweater that could have existed. They could blame Lena for that gift a year ago. “Commere.” Jesse settled on the couch and opened his arms for Hanzo to shift and lean back. It started with a light touch, the fingertips of Jesse’s hand grazing the surface of Hanzo shirt. 

The tingling sensation spreading from those light paths did more to ease the tension than any deep tissue massage. Hanzo heaved a heavy sigh and let Jesse guide him back until he was lounging against the broad chest of the cowboy. A warm mug found its way into his hands. It smelled of chocolate and peppermint. They enjoyed the beverage in silence, Jesse’s free hand ran its metal fingers along Hanzo’s left arm the entire time.

“Feeling better, sweetpea?” Hanzo nodded into the deep rumbling chest. His empty mug was taken from him. Even as he felt ready to sleep on this great expanse of human flesh, the endearment made flush in embarrassment. “Thanks for coming with me. It means a lot.” Thick forearms wrapped around, even the metal one hiding under the wool blend sweater was a comfort.

“It was far better than last Christmas. You should have known better than to accept a challenge from Lena and Genji to play musical chairs. They both pulled the chair out from under you. Twice.” Hanzo chuckled at the memory of the laughing cowboy dropping to the floor.

“Stupid party games is what you’re supposed to do. One year we’ll do a costume party for Halloween and you’ll be telling the scariest story you can think of.”

“I doubt that.”

“But I know I’ll get you dressed up.”

“Do you now?” Hanzo twisted until he was laying on his side, able to watch the cowboy. Jesse immediately tucked his right hand under Hanzo’s ear and brushed circles across his cheek.

“Sure do.” Jesse grinned. “You might not like Christmas, but I’m sure you’ll love scaring Reinhardt with the best costume ever.”

“Hmm… That prospect does have merit.” Hanzo hummed into the cowboy’s neck. Metal fingers started the light tracing of random patterns along his back.

“See. Told you it would be fun.”

“We’ll see when Halloween rolls around.”

Jesse hummed and slid his warm flesh fingers under Hanzo’s sweater along the bare skin of the archer’s lower back. Hanzo’s shiver had nothing to do with the cold. “Whatever you say, sugar.”

Sighing, Hanzo tilted his head up to look at his partner. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what, darling?”

“That? With the pet names?”

Jesse frowned. “You know, I don’t think you’ve ever asked me that before.”

“Probably not. I know I have asked you not to use them. Particularly in public. But you persist. Why?”

“I don’t know to be honest. But I know I like the way you blush when I do.” Hanzo felt his cheeks redden at that very statement. How this man had control over what Hanzo could contain was beyond him. “And that is what you are to me. You are my darling, my sweetie.” Jesse grinned as he said this. Hanzo knew his own face was growing redder by the second. Somehow Jesse managed to lean in and plant wet kisses to Hanzo’s forehead with each new name. “My cherry blossom, pumpkin, dumpling—“

“Stop..” 

“My love.” With the final pet name, Jesse leaned in for a long lingering kiss that left Hanzo melting into the man. The taste of phantom peppermint danced across their tongues. 

Pulling back for breath, Hanzo released a sigh of contentment. “You are ridiculous.”

Jesse was grinning. “Here you are, complaining about my names for you and you have your own set of pet names for me.”

“I do not. You’re an idiot.”

“Make that two.” The cowboy ran his fingers into Hanzo’s hair, undoing the ties with just a bit of pressure. Something about that broad smile made him drunkenly stupid. Hanzo twisted further until he straddled the man below him at the hips. With his hair tickling the base of his neck and the wide warm hand cupping his neck, Hanzo leaned down to kiss his partner properly. Slow kneading lips, drawing out a deep guttural moan from the gunslinger. The archer scratched his fingers through the man’s scruffy beard and up into the mess of cedar locks. He continued to press his lips tightly against his partner while his nails lightly grazed the man’s scalp. 

Hanzo felt Jesse slowly come undone with just these slow tender motions. The profound depth of the groans, the hand on Hanzo’s back spasming gently, even the tilt of his hips seeking pressure or relief. All of these were signs that his gunslinger had disappeared into a melted mess desperate to enjoy every last sensation. Where Jesse managed to undo the archer with words, Hanzo found ways to silence those words for a better past time. “Foolish cowboy,” his murmur against the reddened lips he had just teased into fullness. They chased his words and Hanzo stayed just tantalizingly close for the faintest whisper of touch.

Deep amber eyes opened and gazed up with fathomless black pools. They contained the only universe Hanzo cared about and he could loose himself to the abyss if it weren’t for the soft chuckle reeling him back to reality. “Make that three, sweet cheeks.” Jesse’s cool metal fingers stroked Hanzo’s high jawline. He was still flushed from before. This doubled it. “I’m gonna have to get you a thesaurus next year.”

“ _Baka_ ," Hanzo smirked. He started to kiss the rosy glow forming above Jesse’s beard.

“Calling me an idiot in another language doesn’t count as expanding your vocabulary.”

Hanzo shut up his cowboy with an intense kiss, needy and unforgiving. They could complain all they wanted about names. Being together was all that mattered. Jesse seemed to agree as both his hands shoved their way under Hanzo’s sweater. This was home. These arms, this chest, this man. It only took a lifetime of poor choices between them to find it. Hanzo was looking forward to the rest of a lifetime enjoying it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sharing these desserts with me. Now it's back to the main dishes.


End file.
